Ican't think of one
by Nemo1
Summary: First Fic It's not exactly good,but hey! R/R


A/n: Sorry if this really really sucks, first fic, I love reviews, so review! Its kind of sad,   
hope its ok!  
  
  
The sound of rain pitter-pattered on the shingled roof. Hermione Granger sat   
alone by the glow of a single candle in the Gryfindore common room. A solitary tear ran   
down her cheek. The lose of her two best friends had hit her hard; life was just not worth   
living any more. Everyone else had shed their tears and moved on but Hermione   
couldn't. Harry's voice echoed through the halls and Ron's constant grumbling haunted   
her dreams. Even after two years had gone by she couldn't bring her self to watch a   
game of Quidditch with out being pulled back into memories she wished she could forget.   
It was always the same, the day Voldemort came for Harry………  
  
It was the day of the final Quidditch match of the season. All of Hogwarts was in high   
spirits, as this match would determine witch house would win the cup. That is all of   
Hogwarts except the Slytherins, they had been knocked out of the running by hufflepuff,   
imagine their shame. Gryffindore found it funny, Hufflepuff. Gryffindore had been   
celebrating for weeks, ever since they had found out which two teams would be   
competing for the cup, Gryffindore and Ravenclaw. So much excitement surrounded the   
cup that it made almost every Voldemort fearer forget that he was at large and   
Dumbledore had taken a year off. The night before the match, a loud wild party started in   
the common room after dinner and lasted until 5 in the morning when Professor   
McGonagall stormed into the common room and forced them to return to their   
dormitories, "You would think you had already won the cup! Now go to bed!" But her   
efforts were futile, as two hours later; a first years alarm went off, waking the entire   
tower, and the party resumed.  
  
That morning Hermione woke up to the sounds of a band she wasn't familiar with   
pumping lyrics that made no sense and people running up and down the staircases. She   
rolled over and groaned. "Hermione! Wake up! You're missing a great party!" said the   
mirror over the dresser. She sat up and opened the curtains, the dormitory was deserted.   
"What time's it?" she asked groggily. It's 8 the party started an hour ago! You're   
missing it!" replied the over excited mirror.   
"8 'o clock! It's too early, go away" but the mirror wasn't put off.  
I f you don't hurry, you'll miss charms." These were the magic words; Hermione was out   
of bed and dressed in a flash. As she stood in front of the mirror, pulling a brush through   
her unmanageable hair, the mirror started to snicker. Hermine frowned at her reflection,  
"What are you laughing at now?"  
"There aren't classes today, it's Sunday."  
  
The I'm-gonna-be-late-to-charms-and-Flitwick-is-gonna-kill-me-look on her face   
was replaced by anger. She slammed down the hairbrush, grabbed a thick book, and shut   
the door behind her as she headed down the stairs to the common room.  
  
As the hours until the match grew les, the party slowed down and the common   
room was filled with a tense silence. Hermione had left with Harry and Ron (who was   
playing keeper) so she was first to the stands. It was a pink day. I'm sure that you don't   
understand that so let me explain. Have you eve heard the poem What Is Pink?  
  
Pink is a peach bloom  
Gauzy and frail  
The Wind's exquisite  
Wedding Veil  
If you stand in an orchard  
In the middle of spring  
And you don't make a sound  
You can hear Pink sing  
A darling, whispery  
Sort of a thing.  
  
It was a pink day. The stands began to fill and Hermione found herself caught up   
in the game. The match went on for four hours, with no sign of the snitch. Up in the air   
Harry could feel hundreds of eyes following him through the air and could almost hear   
his teammates prayers from below. His sharp eyes soon caught sign of the snitch. He   
went into a spectacular dive and a cheer rose from the stands. He pulled out of the dive   
with the snitch clasped in his hand. They had won the cup! As he flew a round the field   
taking a victory lap. Hermione stood in the stands cheering for her friends, when the   
stands around her disappeared. She screamed in horror as she fell 50 feet to the ground   
and knew no more.   
  
She awoke in the hospital wing Dumbledore seated by her bed. He launched into   
an explanation, Voldemort had shown up and apperated the stands to the middle of the   
forbidden forest. Leaving behind only her, Ron and Harry. Hermione looked around the   
hospital wing for Harry and Ron tuning out Dumbledore, there was no sign of Harry or   
Ron. Good she thought, that means they aren't hurt. She turned back to Dumbledore just   
in time to hear him say " And Hermione, I'm sorry, but Harry and Ron were killed"  
  
  
This simple sentence flipped Hermione's world up side down. Now in the common   
room she thought back on this day, she hated Voldemort for killing them, she hated   
Dumbledore for telling her, and she hated herself for not being there. She didn't want to   
live any more. With a wave of her wand she conjured a knife. She ran her finger down the   
blade, it drew blood. That night Hermione died in the common room after slitting her   
wrists, she died with a smile on her face, she was finally going to join her friends.  
  
  
A/n: Ok, it's done, sorry you had too suffer. Review, please. Sorry 'bout my spelling.  
  
DC: I don't own anything, the characters are the great and wonderful J K Rowling's. The   
Poem What Is Pink belongs to Mary O'Neill It's from the book Hailstones and Halibut   
Bones. I can say I own what plot there is. Don't sue ME! I'm completely broke. You   
wont get much.   
  
  
  
  
  
  



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